My Dad's dream prompted my own little dream about bears in the park.
I was walking in McNeil park (in that same field down by the water) when I saw a bear rolling around on its back in the tall grass. I try to sneak by it quietly but it sees me and plods over to me in a very goofy fashion. It starts rubbing its face on my hand like a cat.
- Nice bear... Nice bear... Don't eat me.
Soon the bear starts nipping my hand with the corner of its eye tooth as it rubs against me.
- Okay, too rough. I have to go now.
I begin to leave. The bear looks confused and cocks its head to the side. It runs after me and rubs up against my side, almost knocking me down. I decide to pet it a little more to satiate it. The bear starts to turn its head as I pet it trying to nip at my hand and claw me with its paws.
- Woah, I say, backing away, I have to go now.
I start to leave and once again the bear cocks its head to the side, confused. It chases me again and pushes me with its paws, really trying hard to get me to play with it.
- Look, I say with my hands up, I'm sure you're a very nice bear. But we both know what happens when bears start to play rough. I just can't handle that-- I'm sorry.
I leave and the bear looks very sad.